


if the fates allow

by heykaylabeth



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, because i love jewish holtz, featuring jewish holtz, holiday fic!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:39:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heykaylabeth/pseuds/heykaylabeth
Summary: “Working on Christmas Eve?”“I could say the same about you." It's a Holtzbert holiday fic. What more of a summary do ya need?





	1. snowfall

**Author's Note:**

> So, you may not know this about me, but I'm a really big fan of Ingrid Michaelson.  
> (WHAT! NO! HOW?! YOU'VE LITERALLY NEVER MENTIONED THIS BEFORE, KAYLA. HOW ON EARTH WERE WE EVER SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!)
> 
> :)
> 
> Fun thing about Ingrid Michaelson... she loves Christmas! And she has multiple songs about holidays and wintertime! So me, being the giant piece of trash that I am, decided to write a holiday fic inspired by some of her holiday/winter songs. The story is already completely written (i'm lying to you. it's like 93% written), so I'll be posting a new chapter every day. I will also include links to the songs. The links will be in the title of each section. You don't HAVE to listen to them. It's not necessary. But I DO recommend it, 90% because they are just very lovely songs that I want everybody to enjoy, and like 10% because they also sort of set a ~mood~ for each chapter. But you don't gotta do it! Completely up to you!

**[i. snowfall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RKscYJAksPs) **

_ i want a snowfall kind of love _

_ the kind of love that quiets the world _

 

“Working on Christmas Eve?”

 

Erin jumps, clearly startled. Holtzmann can’t really blame her. The room had been completely silent and she could tell that she hadn’t noticed that she’d come in. Erin glances up from what she’s working on, looking over at Holtz.

 

“I could say the same about you,” she replies, but Holtz shrugs in return.

 

“It’s only December twenty-fourth to me,” she says. Erin blinks at her in mild confusion a few times until it seems to click in her brain and she nods, smiling slightly.

 

“Right. You’re Jewish,” she says. “I forgot. Sorry.”

 

“No worries. I forget sometimes, too,” she smiles.

 

"You've also forgotten your own name on more than one occasion," Erin points out.

 

"That _is_ true," she laughs. “So, what are you still doing here? I have the non-Christian thing going for me, but what about you? What’s your excuse?”

 

“Do I need one?” she asks.

 

“I guess not.”

 

“It’s nice,” she says anyways, gesturing around at the empty firehouse. “The quiet. Is nice.”

 

It isn’t just the firehouse that’s quiet. The typical noises from the street outside are also missing. Holtz doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, she listens. Silence. She smiles.

 

“How busy are you right now?”

 

“Um,” Erin looks down at what she’s been working on, then back up at her. “I don’t know. Why?”

 

“You should come sit on the roof with me,” she states. Erin stares at her.

 

“Holtz, it’s freezing out.”

 

“So we bring blankets. And hot chocolate!”

 

“I don’t know,” she shakes her head, but Holtz gives her a pleading look, pushing out her bottom lip in a pout, and Erin laughs at her, shaking her head again.

 

“Come  _ on. _ Take a break. Come sit on the roof with me.”

 

Erin studies her for a few moments, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards before she finally sighs and begins to stand up from her seat.

 

“ _ Fine,”  _ she agrees.

 

“ _ Yes!”  _ Holtz yells, throwing her arms up in the air, above her head as she turns around, begins to run in the direction of their kitchen area. “You get the blankets, I’ll get the hot chocolate!”

 

“Where do we even  _ keep  _ blankets?!” Erin calls out after her. “Why do we  _ have  _ blankets here?!”

 

“We have blankets so that we can sit on the roof in the dead of winter,” Holtz tells her, stopping and turning to face her once more. “ _ And _ for blanket forts. They’re upstairs. Same closet as towels. Top shelf. Make sure you grab the green one because that’s my favourite.”

 

“Got it,” Erin says, and Holtz turns once more towards the kitchen.

 

About ten minutes later and Holtz is balancing two very full, steaming mugs of hot chocolate in her hands as she carefully walks up the steep staircase to the roof. Erin is already up there, arranging two plastic chairs side by side, facing out towards the brightest lights, a pile of blankets in a heap on the ground.

 

“For you,” Holtz says, placing one of the mugs on the roof’s ledge in front of the chairs. “I added a splash of vodka for some extra warmth.”

 

“Did you really?” Erin asks.

 

“No, but I can if you want it,” she grins.

 

“I think I’m okay,” she laughs, shaking her head. “God, Holtz, you’re not even wearing a coat. Aren’t you freezing?”

 

“Oh, yeah, my whole body is going numb!” 

 

Erin grabs a blanket from the heap, steps closer to Holtz, throws it around her shoulders, wrapping her up in the soft green fleece.

 

“There,” she says, taking a step back. Holtz watches as she grabs another blanket, wrapping it around her own shoulders before grabbing for her mug of hot chocolate, settling down into one of the plastic chairs. Holtz sits in the other one, directly beside her. They don’t say anything. They both stay quiet, looking out at the city. It isn’t even that late, but the sun goes down so early that the sky is already completely dark. But there are Christmas lights in windows, wrapped around trees, draped across buildings. It’s colourful and bright and pretty. And everything is silent. Every so often, there will be the noise of soft voices down below, a laugh, the sound of a car driving by. But for the most part, it’s just so  _ quiet. _

 

The wind blows softly, stinging Holtz’s cheeks, making the tip of her nose numb. She likes it, though. She glances towards Erin who is staring out at the lights, her knees pulled up to her chest, hands wrapped around her mug. She’s covered up to her chin, her hair blowing in the breeze, and even in the low lighting, Holtz can see the pink tinge across her cheeks and nose from the cold. 

 

Erin tilts her head upwards and a smile slowly spreads over her face.

 

“Hey,” she says, turning to look at Holtz. Holtz is already staring at her and she thinks that it’s probably pretty obvious that she was, but she doesn’t really care all that much. “It’s snowing.”

 

Holtz glances up now, too, spotting the first few flurries falling from the sky. 

 

“Well, would ya look at that. It is.”

 

Erin lets out a soft, content-sounding sigh as she looks back out on the city. The snow falls faster. It clings to Erin’s hair, lands on the blanket around her shoulders, falls onto her face. Holtz feels it on her face, too. Flakes stick to her eyelashes and she blinks them away, leaving her cheeks wet and cold. 

 

Erin shivers, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders.

 

“I’m so cold,” she says softly. “But I don’t want to go back inside.” 

 

Holtz has an idea. She stands up, pushing her chair away and reaching for the other blankets still left on the ground. Erin watches her but doesn’t ask any questions, just keeps her eyes on her as she spreads out a blanket on the ground, and then another on top of that one. She sits down on top of them and then looks over at Erin.

 

“Come down here,” she says. 

 

“What?”

 

“Come down here,” she repeats. Erin doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she stands anyways and takes a seat on the very edge of the blankets, leaving plenty of space between them. 

 

“Closer,” Holtz says. Erin lets out a laugh, scoots a little bit closer to Holtz. 

 

“ _ Closer,”  _ she says again. “Come on. I’m not gonna bite.”

 

Erin laughs again, scoots over until she’s directly beside her, and she looks at Holtz, watching her with an expectant expression. Holtz raises an eyebrow.

 

“What?”

 

“Oh, I was just waiting for the cliche ‘ _ unless you ask me to’  _ line that was sure to follow.”

 

“Erin,  _ please,”  _ she says. “You really think that  _ I _ would use  _ that  _ line?”

 

“I guess I was wrong!”

 

“Yes. You were,” she nods. “But, I mean, yeah, if you  _ did  _ ask me to--”

 

“Oh, shut up,” Erin laughs, reaching out to shove Holtz lightly. Holtz laughs too and grabs for the last blanket -- the largest one -- and throws it around the both of them. They both lean their bodies in towards each other at the same time, pressing their shoulders together, and then Erin leans even farther, completely against Holtz. And Holtz moves her arm, wedging it out from between them and tentatively wraps it around Erin’s shoulders. She watches her face, watches for any signs that she doesn’t want this, that she’s not comfortable with it, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, she settles into it, and Holtz wraps them both up in her blanket.

 

“So, what were you working on earlier?” Holtz asks her. “Downstairs, before I interrupted you and made you come up here with me.”

 

“Oh, nothing, really,” she shrugs. “It’s pretty boring.”

 

“Erin. I don’t think that anything you do could possibly be boring,” she says. 

 

“Well…,” she begins, and then she tells her, the words rolling off her tongue easily, as if she’s been wanting to discuss it. And Holtz listens. Listens, comments occasionally, watches Erin’s face as she speaks, the way that it lights up, the sheer concentration in simply speaking about her work.  


 

When Erin stops talking, Holtz is staring at her. She can’t even help it. She’s completely mesmerized by her and she can’t tear her eyes away. She doesn’t say anything, either. After several minutes of silence, Erin turns, looking at her, and Holtz still doesn’t look away. 

 

“What?” Erin asks with the tiniest hint of a laugh in her voice, clearly having noticed that Holtz has been staring. 

 

“I want to kiss you,” she replies in just above a whisper. Surprise flashes across Erin’s face, but it’s only there for a passing second, and then it’s gone. But she looks at Holtz, holding her gaze, tilts her head ever so slightly to one side, and she blinks, a few times, her expression neutral and unreadable.

 

“Okay,” she finally says.

 

“What?”

 

“I said ‘okay.’”

 

And she smiles, one hand emerging from the blanket wrapped around her, shifting to face Holtz, and she reaches out, places a hand lightly upon her cheek.

 

Her hand is surprisingly warm on Holtz's cold face, and she’s the one that leans in first, but Holtz follows her lead and they meet in the middle. 

 

Erin’s hair is damp from the snow when Holtz buries her fingers in it, attempting to pull her impossibly closer, their lips fitting perfectly together, the taste of hot chocolate still on her tongue.

 

Both of their noses are running from the cold and Erin giggles, pulling away, wiping at her nose before reaching towards Holtz's face.

 

"I'm sorry, my nose is totally dripping on you, oh my god, that's so gross, I'm sorry," she says, swiping her fingers over Holtz's face.

 

"I don't care," Holtz smiles, pulling her back, pressing their lips together again.

 

They keep kissing. The snow falls around them. Everything is quiet.

 

_ oh i want to walk through with you _

_ and watch it all melt away _

 

When Holtz wakes up, she's on the sofa on the second floor of the firehouse. She's on the sofa, pushed up against the back cushions, an arm wrapped around a sleeping figure. They are covered in blankets. They are covered in blankets and pressed tightly together on the narrow surface, legs entwined. And Erin is facing her, her face buried in her neck, warm breaths ghosting over her skin.

 

They had finally come back inside after being on the roof once the snow began to come down even harder, their hair and most of the blankets wet and freezing. They had laughed and kissed and agreed that the weather was too bad to leave the firehouse. So they both stayed there. Curled up on the couch, quietly talking and softly kissing until they both fell asleep.

 

It isn’t snowing anymore. From where she’s lying, she can just see out a window, just enough to see that it isn’t snowing anymore. Bright sunlight floods the room. She shifts her body as much as she can without disturbing Erin. One arm is asleep and she has to use the bathroom, but Erin is curled up beside her, her face buried in her neck, sleeping soundly, and Holtz can’t bring herself to disturb her. 

 

But Erin is a light sleeper, apparently, and she wakes, moving her head, looking up at Holtz. Her hair is messy, one side of her face is reddened with indented lines from whatever she was pressed against, her eyes are bleary, and she smiles.

 

“Good morning.”

 

Holtz lets out a long, low breath, taking in every single bit of her like this. This is what Erin Gilbert looks like when she just wakes up. This is what Erin Gilbert  _ sounds like  _ when she just wakes up. 

 

“God, you’re beautiful,” she mumbles.

 

Erin’s warm hands are on her face against and she leans in, kissing her.

 

Holtz doesn’t want to move. She wants to spend her entire morning right here, on this narrow sofa, entirely wrapped up in Erin, to never stop kissing her. But she pulls away with a soft groan and a grimace.

 

“I have to pee,” she tells her.

 

"Does that mean that I have to move?" Erin groans.

 

"Well, you don't  _ have  _ to, but if you choose not to, then you might start feeling something wet  _ very soon _ ."

 

" _ Gross _ ," she grimaces, disentangling herself from Holtz and carefully sitting up on the edge of the couch. Holtz laughs, jumping up from the couch and onto her feet.

 

When she returns from the bathroom, she finds Erin standing in front of a window, one of the blankets wrapped around her. Holtz steps behind her, rests her chin on her shoulder, looks out at the snow-covered city. It's still fresh and untouched, just a blanket of pure white over the streets, sticking to tree branches, covering the roofs and windowpanes of other buildings.

 

"It's so pretty," Erin sighs. She turns to the side to face Holtz, opening her blanket, and Holtz accepts the invitation, doesn't need to be asked more than once, and tugs one corner of the blanket over her own shoulders, wrapping them both up. She slips an arm around Erin's waist, pulling her close to her.

 

"Wanna go play in it?" Holtz asks, nodding her head towards the snow. Erin laughs.

 

"Maybe later," she says. Holtz leans towards her, capturing her lips in a kiss.

 

"Merry Christmas," she says softly.

 

"Merry--" Erin begins to respond, but then pauses, smiles. "Happy December twenty-fifth."

 

They kiss again.

 

_ bury me in your quiet love _

_ and we will blow away _

 


	2. winter song

**[ii. winter song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UkOKCWDJ4iA) **

_ they say that things just cannot grow _

_ beneath the winter snow _

_ or so i have been told _

  
  


It's unseasonably warm for December. Erin is actually  _ sweating  _ as she rushes through the nearly-empty streets. The trains are running on a weird schedule and she hadn't prepared for it. She would understand if it was Christmas, but it's only Christmas Eve. It makes no sense for the trains to be running on a weird schedule. Alas, she doesn't think she'll ever fully understand the MTA.

 

The trains are running on a weird schedule and she hadn't prepared for it, so she's late and rushing and sweating.

 

She bursts through the firehouse doors and everybody else is already there. They're laughing about something, their large and under-decorated Christmas tree lit up, and they all turn to her, shouting greetings.

 

It's the first year that they've really done Christmas together. The year before, they hadn't done much since Abby had been out of town and Patty had other obligations. But this year, they're all here.

 

"Sorry I'm late. Trains," she explains simply, dropping the gift bag in her hand underneath the Christmas tree.

 

"Well, I guess  _ that  _ one's no longer a secret," Abby comments.

 

"I know, I know, I'm sorry."

 

"It's okay. You're not the only one," Holtz says, nodding towards a wrapped package beneath the tree with a large tag that reads:  _ TO HOLTZ. FROM YOUR SECRET SANTA, KEVIN. _

 

"He tried," Abby says.

 

"He really did," Patty agrees.

 

“I am so glad he got me,” Holtz grins. “I bet there's something really weird in there.”

 

Erin laughs, looking at Holtz, the way her face lights up when she smiles like that, and she fights back yet another wave of disappointment that  _ she  _ isn't the one who had drawn Holtz’s name for Secret Santa. Not that she would have actually known what to get her, but she would have at least had the chance to do… something. 

 

_ Something.  _ The exact opposite of what she's done for nearly a year now. Because she's done nothing. 

 

And for a while, that was okay. It was okay because she was the one who had made the decision and it wasn't until later that she began to wonder if she had made the right one.

 

And now it's Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve. An entire year since…. 

 

And it's impossible not to think about. Because it's Christmas Eve and she's with Holtz yet again, but it's nothing like last year. 

 

Last year. The roof and the snow and….

 

Afterwards, they'd had nearly a week of tentative touches and stolen kisses, but it never even made it into the New Year. Erin didn't let it.

 

The snow from Christmas Eve hadn't even melted away from the sidewalks yet.

 

“I just. I need some time. I don't… I don't know… I'm sorry. I just… I don't know what I want and I can't… I don't know if I can do this right now.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Holtz had accepted it. Just like that. She didn't argue or try to persuade her differently. She had just accepted it, even though Erin could see the way her eyes filled with tears as she turned, trying to hide it.

 

“I'm sorry, Holtz. I really am,” she continued. 

 

“It's okay,” she said, her voice different. Strained. “This is… it's better that it happens now. Instead of...going any further and….”

 

And hurting her even more. 

 

It was unspoken, but Erin understood it anyways.

 

“Please don't hate me.”

 

“I could never hate you, Erin.”

 

She'd had so many reasons. Reasons that made so much sense at the time. Reasons that made less and less sense as the days and weeks and months wore on. 

 

Holtz doesn't flirt with her anymore. At least, not like she used to. There is still the occasional remark, a wink every now and then, because that's just how Holtz  _ is.  _ It's the same sort of flirty things she does with  _ everybody _ . And that's it. She doesn't dance for her like she used to. She doesn't touch her. She doesn't stare the way that she used to. The way that Erin used to see out of the corner of her eye, when she would be working. The way that used to make her stomach flutter and her face grow warm. 

 

She doesn't flirt and they don't talk about it and they carry on like normal, as if nothing ever happened. Sometimes it feels like it was all just a very vivid dream. It happened and it was beautiful and then it was over and they both woke up. The kind of dream that ends too soon. The kind of dream where you long to just go back to sleep and continue it. But it doesn't happen. It can't happen.

 

And Erin knows that it's her own fault.

 

And now it's Christmas Eve and it's been an entire year and Erin didn't know what it was that she wanted.

 

She knows now.

 

They eat, they drink, they laugh, and then they exchange gifts. Erin had drawn Patty’s name for Secret Santa and she watches happily as Patty pulls the collection of old, rare history books from the gift bag, exclaiming loudly with joy. 

 

A neatly wrapped package is thrust into Erin’s hands. She pulls the paper away, finding a plain white box. She opens it.

 

Inside is a snow globe. The nice kind made of glass and ceramic, not the cheap plastic kind. The base is made to look like a brick wall, their logo appearing to have been spray-painted onto it. And inside the glass dome is a firehouse.  _ Their  _ firehouse _.  _ Exactly as it is, but in miniature. 

 

She feels her breath catch in her throat and she gently shakes the globe, just enough to make the little white snow bits lift from the ground and then fall back down.

 

She glances up at Holtz. She isn't looking at her.

 

Erin knows that this gift couldn't have come from anybody else. She knows. 

 

And she doesn’t know  _ exactly  _ what it all means, but she thinks that she has an idea.

 

_ It’s not over. _

 

_ this is my winter song _

_ december never felt so wrong  _

_ ‘cause you're not where you belong _

_ inside my arms _

  
  


It’s later. 

 

Patty is getting ready to leave. Kevin and Abby are both drunk and they keep saying that it’ll be time for them to head out after they sing  _ one more Christmas carol.  _ Holtz has been watching gleefully, encouraging them, suggesting more and more difficult songs for them to sing.  _ 12 Days of Christmas  _ had been particularly entertaining. They’re now struggling through  _ Carol of the Bells,  _ stumbling over the lyrics that Abby had to pull up on her cell phone. 

 

“I can’t handle any more of this,” Patty grumbles, shaking her head. “I’m out.”

 

“Bye, Patty,” Erin laughs. 

 

“Bye, baby,” she says, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you for the gift.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

Patty says goodbye to Holtz and then shouts her goodbyes to Abby and Kevin who are too busy mangling lyrics to even acknowledge her.

 

“This is my new favourite Christmas tradition,” Holtz says, popping down into a seat beside Erin.

 

“What is?”

 

“These two,” she says, nodding towards Kevin and Abby.

 

“You don’t even celebrate Christmas.”

 

“I can still have a favourite Christmas tradition. Besides, I’m celebrating right now, aren’t I?”

 

“I guess you are,” Erin smiles. 

 

Kevin and Abby are shouting now. The words are completely incoherent and mostly nonsensical. 

 

“What should I request next? I’m thinking Little Drummer Boy, but I dunno.”

 

“Holtz,” Erin says, turning to look at her. “Thank you. For the gift. I…. It’s perfect.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says with a sly smile. “It’s  _ secret  _ Santa. I have no clue who got that for you.”

 

“Holtz, come on. We’ve all revealed ourselves.”

 

“Oh, you’ve  _ revealed  _ yourself?” she grins, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

 

“Come on, Holtz. Be serious.”

 

“I’m always serious.”

 

Erin shakes her head and drops the subject. 

 

A rousing rendition of  _ The Little Drummer Boy  _ and all five obscure verses of  _ Jingle Bells  _ later, Kevin finally calls it a night, claiming that he needs to get home before Santa arrives.

 

“We should probably get her a cab,” Erin says, gesturing to Abby who is much too drunk to make it home via public transit on her own. Erin thinks that under normal circumstances, she would probably take Abby home herself. But she also thinks that under normal circumstances, she likely would have left the firehouse around the same time as Patty. 

 

But she’s been waiting. Waiting and hoping. Waiting for Patty to go home, for Kevin to go home, for Abby to go home. And hoping that Holtz wouldn’t leave before her.

 

“Alright. Come on, Ab-a-dab,” Holtz says, guiding a giggling and wobbly Abby towards the front door. “We’re gonna get you a cab and you’re gonna go home and drink two big glasses of water and then go to bed, okay?”

 

Erin follows them out, watches as Holtz hails a cab, opens the door to the backseat for Abby, and then leans through the front seat window to speak to the driver, telling him where to go and then handing over some cash for fare. 

 

The cab drives off and Erin is left alone with Holtz on the sidewalk in front of the firehouse. Her heart is thumping inside her chest and she isn’t sure what, exactly she’s going to do. Now that she’s at this point, she doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. 

 

“So…,” she begins, twisting her hands together in front of her. 

 

“You heading home soon?” Holtz asks her.

 

“Oh, um…,” she says, and then shrugs. “I don’t know. Are you?”

 

“It’s pretty late.”

 

“Yeah,” she agrees with a nod. They both stand there in silence for a few moments. Erin can hardly even remember the last time she was completely alone with Holtz. She’s pretty sure that they’ve both been avoiding it. 

 

But it’s Christmas Eve. It’s Christmas Eve and…

 

“Do you wanna--” Erin begins, but at the exact same time, Holtz says “I think that--”

 

The both stop, laughing slightly.

 

“You go ahead,” Holtz says.

 

“No, no, you go first.”

 

“Um,” Holtz mumbles, bringing a hand to the back of her neck, looking down at the sidewalk and then glancing back up at Erin. And Erin feels the fluttering in her stomach, her chest, all the way up to her throat, and it’s uncomfortable and she just wants, she  _ wants.  _ She wants something to happen. Something.  _ Something. _

 

“I was gonna say that I think that I’m gonna go home,” she says, and the fluttering stops, all at once, replaced with a heavy sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s… Yeah,” Erin nods, smiling as best as she can, regretting not taking the opportunity to speak first, to invite Holtz up to the roof with her. And she wonders if she would have even accepted. But now she won’t know at all.

 

Holtz doesn’t move or say anything else right away. She just stands there, not looking directly at Erin, shifting slightly. It’s almost as if she’s waiting for something.

 

“What, um. What were you gonna say?”

 

“Oh, it’s… you know, I totally forgot,” Erin lies. “Must not have been important.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Holtz nods. She still doesn’t move.

 

After several long seconds of silence, Holtz finally smiles up at Erin.

 

“Well...see ya,” she says.

 

“Yeah,” Erin says, forcing a smile onto her face, meeting her eyes. They’re both still lingering. Right there on the sidewalk, neither one of them moving away quite yet.

 

But finally, Holtz tears her eyes away, lets out the softest sigh.

 

“Merry Christmas, Erin.”

 

She brushes her arm lightly with the very tips of her fingers as she passes her, beginning to walk away. Erin turns, watches her go, her vision becoming blurry by the hot tears of disappointment that she refuses to shed.

 

“Happy December twenty-fifth,” she whispers, but Holtz is already gone.

 

_ is love alive? _

_ is love alive? _

_ is love alive? _


	3. when the leaves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am posting an update very early in the morning before I go to work mostly because I'm not sure when I'll be home and I'd like to just get this post up but also because I am anticipating a very very very stressful day at work (costume fittings all morning! and i don't usually do the fittings! but i am doing the fittings today because the person who usually does the fittings isn't here this week! and there are lots of fittings all week and i have to do a bunch of them!!! and i want to throw up and cry and go back to sleep for the next six days!!!) and I think that if I happen to fuck everything up, then when it's all done, at least I can come on here and see all of the really really (REALLY REALLY) nice things that you all leave for me (which I appreciate so so so so so damn much) and it will make me feel better.
> 
> So...enjoy the early chapter! This one is kind of a short one.

**[iii. when the leaves](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_Er_aGd5xo) **

_ when the leaves turn brown _

_ and they cover this lonely town _

_ and i miss your kiss _

_ when the leaves turn brown _

  
  


It doesn’t snow in Seattle. Not really. It rains a lot. And it certainly feels like it could be cold enough to snow. But it doesn’t. It only rains.

 

It’s raining now, hitting against the window in a steady rhythm. After seven months of living here, Holtz is used to the constant rain, hardly even noticing it anymore. She’s on the sofa in her apartment and she’s thinking about Erin.

 

Of course she’s thinking about Erin. She’s hasn’t seen Erin in seven months but it’s Christmas Eve and it’s impossible to not be thinking about her. She knows that back in Manhattan, Erin is with Abby and Patty and Kevin at the firehouse, celebrating Christmas Eve the way that they all did together last year. 

 

But Holtz isn’t there. She isn’t in Manhattan with the others because she’s here. In Seattle. She lives here now. 

 

It had all happened so quickly. Dr. Gorin had called her about an offer -- a  _ good  _ offer -- and three weeks later, she was on a plane to the other side of the country. 

 

By now, the ghost population in New York seemed to be down. Before Holtz took the offer, they were only getting called on one or two busts every month, and they were usually pretty simple ones. A team of three was enough. They understood how to make basic repairs on their equipment, and Holtz got them in contact with an engineer she trusted for anything major. 

 

“And I will get on the first plane outta that place if you need me. Just say the word.” 

 

She tied up all the loose ends.

 

Almost.

 

After Holtz told her that she was leaving, Erin barely spoke to her. Barely even looked at her. For two and a half weeks, it was as if Erin was pretending that Holtz had already gone. 

 

“Erin.”

 

Nothing.

 

“ _ Erin.” _

 

Nothing.

 

“Tell me to stay.”

 

“ _ What?” _

 

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I don’t have to. I don’t have to go.”

 

“Holtz, what are you talking about?”

 

“Give me a reason to stay.  _ Tell me  _ to stay.”

 

“I don’t… I…”

 

“I’ll stay. If you ask me to. I won’t go if you don’t want me to. Erin…”

 

“You  _ want  _ to go.”

 

“I want… I want you to give me a reason to stay.”

 

“I can’t do that.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I’m not going to be the one to make you stay here. If you wanted to stay, you’d stay. All on your own.  _ You’re  _ the one that’s leaving.  _ I’m  _ not the one that has to make that decision.”

 

“Erin.”

 

“How  _ dare  _ you? How dare you put that on  _ my  _ shoulders? If you go, if you leave and you go and you hate it, then it’s all my fault for letting you go. But if you stay because I tell you to, and then you’re unhappy  _ here _ , then that’ll be my fault, too.”

 

“Erin, no, that’s not--”

 

“If you wanted to stay here, then you would stay here. It has nothing to do with me--”

 

“ _ Yes.  _ It does. God, Erin, it-- I--”

 

“We’re not doing this. We’re not-- Can you just… just go. You’ve already made up your mind. You already had your mind made up when you asked us what we all thought. You weren’t asking our opinions. You were  _ telling us.  _ Your mind has been made up from the second you got that offer and don’t even try to pretend any differently. If you can't think of a reason to stay here without my help, then that's on  _ you. _ ”

 

“That’s not--”

 

“You know, you talk a lot about how we’re a  _ family _ . You throw that word around a lot.  _ Family.  _ But you sure are quick to leave the second something better comes along.”

 

“Erin,  _ please.  _ I’m not--”

 

“How can you just abandon us? Abandon  _ this?” _

 

“I’m not  _ abandoning  _ you.”

 

“Well, it feels like you are.”

 

“You would know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?”

 

“ _ What?” _

 

“Abandoning people. Just dropping them and walking away… you know all about that, don’t you?”

 

“What’s  _ that  _ supposed to mean?”

 

“You know what it means.”

 

“Okay. Okay. Whatever. You know, just-- I’m not doing this. I can’t do this right now.”

 

“Yeah, I've heard  _ that _ before.”

 

“ _ Fuck you _ .”

 

“ _ Why _ are you so  _ angry  _ at me, Erin? Is it really because you think I'm  _ abandoning  _ this, or…”

 

“Or  _ what?” _

 

_ “ _ This… all of this... _us_ …”

 

“There is no _us,_ Holtzmann. _There is no_ _us._ And there _never will be_.”

 

“Erin. If you would just--”

 

“ _ Please  _ stop. Please. We're not doing this. Not now. It's  _ too late.  _ Okay? It's too late. So just...go.  _ Go.” _

 

“ _ Erin.” _

 

“I hope that you enjoy Seattle.”

 

She left. 

 

She didn’t come back to say goodbye.

 

_ on christmas evenings like this  _

_ i wonder if it’s me you miss  _

_ when christmas carols fill every space  _

_ and i think of your hands warm on my face _

  
  


She doesn’t like to think about how things might be different if she had done things differently. She doesn’t like to go down that road. 

 

But she always wonders.

 

And no matter what, it always ends up being her own fault.. If she had just  _ fought harder  _ for her, if she had  _ even tried  _ to convince her to take a chance on her, if she had given into a single impulse in the last several months before she left, if she had just  _ told her,  _ or  _ shown her,  _ in some way how she felt about her, how she thought that she might have felt in return….

 

But she didn’t. She didn’t do any of that. And now it’s been seven months since she’s seen her, seven months since she’s spoken to her, and god, she  _ misses her. _

 

Most days, it isn’t so bad. Most days, she’s able to keep her thoughts off of her. Most days, she’s fine.

 

But it’s Christmas Eve and it isn’t snowing. It’s only raining. And Holtz is mostly grateful for the lack of snow in Seattle. For two years now, snow has always reminded her of Erin. Two years. Two years since the rooftop and the snow and the kisses.

 

It feels like an entire lifetime ago.

 

“You okay?” a voice asks, and a figure slides onto the couch beside Holtz.

 

“Yeah,” she nods, leaning her face towards waiting lips, accepting the soft kiss upon her cheek.

 

“You have  _ that look.” _

 

“What look? I have a  _ look?” _

 

“Yes. That weird little look when you start staring off into space. It’s almost always followed by you jumping up and  _ leaving me  _ to go work on something.”

 

“Oh, yeah, I do do that, don’t I?” Holtz laughs, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders, pulling her close to her. She curls up against her side.

 

“So, you gonna run off on me or what?” she teases.

 

“Nah,” Holtz shakes her head, leaning down to her, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Not tonight.”

 

_ and i miss your kiss  _

_ on a christmas night like this  _

 


	4. men of snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of feel like I maaaybe possibly should have mentioned that Ingrid Michaelson has very few happy holiday/winter songs??? I maybe should have mentioned that?  
> I'm sorry.  
> But stick with me, okay???  
> And hey, fun fact about the song for this next chapter! The very very first time I saw Ingrid perform live, she played this song and I cried my little eyes out. YEP. If you listen to any song from this fic, I recommend that it's this one. It's one of my favourite songs in this entire universe and so so so beautiful and just, ugh. I love it.  
> And hey! Thank you for the well-wishes for the fittings I had to do yesterday. I 10,000% overreacted about the whole thing and everything was totally fine!

**[iv. men of snow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjGUf2ze4Zw) **

_ winters come, my love, the winters go  _

_ and time stacks up in piles like winter snow _

 

Abby’s apartment is small and crowded, but delightfully warm and cheerful, Christmas lights strung over the windows, Christmas music playing softly in the background. It's different from Christmas at the firehouse. It's supposed to be different. That's why Abby decided to host. And yet, it still took a lot of convincing to get Erin to come.

 

Erin doesn't know how Abby understood that the firehouse itself was the reason that she was hesitant to have any sort of celebration, but she did. She understood and changed the plans and had Christmas Eve at her own apartment.

 

And it's better. It's better this way. 

 

She hardly thinks about her at all.

 

It's easier to not think about her when she isn't surrounded by everything that has always reminded her of her. It's easier, even if it is the day that she always thinks about her. It's easier.

 

Patty is with her boyfriend and they're laughing and joking, and Abby and Erin both laugh along. They've just finished eating, dishes stacked up on the small table that Abby had set up in the living room specifically for the night. 

 

Everything is going perfectly fine, but then Patty has to go and bring her up.

 

“Man, I miss Holtzy,” she says with a sigh.

 

Erin looks away, presses her lips tightly together.

 

It isn't like she can be mad at her for it. It isn't like she or Abby ever knew. Not really. It isn't like they know the significance of Christmas Eve -- and she hates that she still thinks of it as  _ significant  _ all these years later. She hates that she still thinks about it at all.

 

And it isn't like Abby or Patty have ever blamed Erin for Holtz leaving. They've never once blamed her, possibly have never even thought about blaming her. But Erin blames herself. 

 

She hears Patty say something about wanting to call Holtz, and Erin stands from where she's sitting, moving towards the stack of dirty dishes and leftover food, claiming that she wants to help clean things up. 

 

She grabs a half-full casserole dish and moves into the kitchen, thankfully far enough away from the living room to make the voices muffled and distant.

 

She lets out a long breath, letting her eyes fall closed for a moment before opening them again and reaching into Abby’s pantry for a roll of tin foil. She covers the dish and steps towards the refrigerator, opening it, placing the dish inside.

 

It's when the refrigerator door falls closed that she notices the postcard. It's held on with a magnet and it stops Erin. She freezes completely, her eyes zeroing in on the picture.

 

It's Holtz. Holtz and….

 

They're both in sweaters.  _ Ridiculous  _ sweaters. Holtz’s is blue with a gigantic menorah across the front. The other woman’s is green with a large Santa face. Even the small dog held between them in the photo is wearing a sweater. They're both grinning. In large letters beneath them it says:  _ HAPPY HOLI-GAYS. _

 

It's the kind of thing that Erin would probably never agree to.

 

But this woman….  _ This woman.  _ Erin wants to find something wrong with her, wants to maybe even see some sort of resemblance to  _ herself  _ in her, wants… wants the opposite of this.

 

She's beautiful. There's no other way to describe her. She's  _ beautiful.  _ With dark skin and curly black hair and bright brown eyes and a smile that spreads over her entire face and it's radiant.  _ She’s  _ radiant. 

 

It was better when she was just a nameless, faceless figure. It was better when Erin could just imagine her in any way that she'd like. But now she's seeing her. She's seeing her for the very first time.

 

They visited. In the summer. Both of them, together. Holtz brought her here, to New York. As soon as she found out that they were coming, Erin had figured out some way to be out of town, pretended like she'd planned it ages ago. She wouldn't have even been able to face Holtz on her own let alone Holtz  _ with her.  _

 

Abby and Patty had nothing but good things to say about her. About how nice she was, and funny, and smart, and how wonderful she and Holtz were together.

 

She doesn't know when she removed the postcard from the refrigerator, but it's in her hands now and she's looking at her. Looking at them. Looking at Holtz's smile. Looking, wondering, imagining…. 

 

She tries to picture herself in the other woman’s place, but she can't. 

 

“Pretty funny, huh?”

 

Erin jumps. She hadn't even heard Abby come into the kitchen, didn't even notice her as she stood beside her. She jumps and she regains her composure and she nods, forcing a smile onto her face.

 

“Yeah, it's… it's cute,” she says. “So… this is the girlfriend, huh?”

 

She's trying so hard to be casual but she can hear the way her own voice strains, hears how fake it all sounds.

 

“Yeah,” Abby nods. “Well...sort of.”

 

“Sort of?” Erin asks, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you--”

 

She doesn't know how she didn't notice it immediately. She doesn't know how she managed to look right over it. Because when she glances back down at the picture, it's there, practically screaming at her. It's _ right there _ . Right in the middle of the photo, the same hand holding up the small dog. Right there, gleaming and sparkling even in just the still photograph. 

 

She feels like she’s spinning. She feels as if her insides have all turned to lead. She feels her lungs squeezing shut, stopping her breath. She feels her heart racing, thumping against her ribcage like a goddamn jackhammer. She feels heat. Everywhere. All over her entire body. Heat and pressure and the feeling of falling. She’s frozen in one spot, unable to move, unable to think, unable to feel anything except for the heat, the pressure, the  _ falling. _

 

“That was their way of announcing it,” Abby says. “Typical, right?”

 

She feels herself nodding. She can’t tear her eyes away from the picture. From the ring. From their smiles. 

 

“She looks really happy.”

 

It’s barely a whisper. Her hands are shaking. Her voice is shaking. The room is shaking.

 

“I think she is.”

 

She tries to say something, tries to pretend that she is not  _ dying inside _ , but when she opens her mouth, the only thing that comes out is a single choked sob followed by a quick, sharp inhale, and she isn’t crying,  _ she isn’t crying,  _ but she can’t  _ breathe.  _ The hand that isn’t still holding onto the picture clutches at her chest, and everything is tightening, squeezing, closing in on her. She’s falling apart right there in Abby’s kitchen and she can’t do anything to stop it.

 

“Oh, god, Erin,” Abby says softly, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “I always wondered if something had happened between you two, but I never knew how to ask.”

 

She takes in a large gulp of air. Her eyes are burning. She shakes her head, then nods, then shakes her head again. Abby’s hand rubs soft circles against Erin’s arm and Erin squeezes her eyes shut, squeezes them as tight as she can because she  _ won’t cry,  _ she  _ will not let herself cry. _

 

“When was the last time you talked to her?”

 

“Before she left,” she answers, her voice weak and trembling. “And I said such awful things to her.”

 

“Oh, Erin,” Abby sighs sadly.

 

“She wanted me to tell her to stay,” she admits. She’s never told anybody this before. “I could have made her stay.”

 

“Did you want her to stay?”

 

“ _ Of course  _ I wanted her to stay. But I… I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that. It’s my fault that she left. It’s my fault that-- I shouldn’t  _ get  _ to be upset about this. It’s my  _ own fault.”  _

 

She presses a hand to her mouth and she can’t control it anymore. Hot tears spill onto her cheeks. She blinks a few times but it just blurs her vision, little droplets clinging to her eyelashes. Abby’s hand is on her back now, gentle and comforting. 

 

“It’s all my fault. I’m the one who-- I was  _ scared.  _ I didn’t know what I wanted and then I knew and then it was too late.”

 

She’s crying now.  _ Really  _ crying. And it’s all spilling out of her. The tears, the words, everything that she’s been holding back.

 

“But it was… It never really felt like it was over. Because nothing was ever...it wasn’t  _ final.  _ It never felt like it was  _ over.  _ Even when she left. I convinced myself that she was gonna come back, that-- that she--” another sob escapes her. “Oh  _ god.  _ It’s over. It’s  _ over.” _

 

The reality that she has been trying so hard to avoid is hitting her in full. She thinks that a part of her has known this all along, has known it since the very second that Holtz decided to leave. But there’s an even larger part of her that has held on to some small sliver of hope. But she has to face reality now.

 

It’s over.

 

_ It’s over. _

 

“Do you remember Christmas Eve, the last one before Holtz left?” Abby asks her. “The one where we did Secret Santa?”

 

Erin nods.

 

“Well,” she sighs. “I had originally drawn your name for Secret Santa. Holtz had picked Kevin. But she pretty much begged me to switch with her. I never asked why, but it was  _ really  _ important to her that she got you for Secret Santa. I don’t know if you ever knew that.”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“I thought maybe you should.”

 

She can only nod, acknowledging it. Quick, jerky movements and another sharp inhale. She feels Abby easing the postcard from her hand. 

 

“Hey, you guys have--” Patty’s voice begins from the entrance of the kitchen, but then she stops. “Oh.”

 

Erin doesn't look at her. She's sure that the sight is pathetic enough without showing her tear-streaked face.

 

“What’s…?  _ Oh.” _

 

She's obviously seen the postcard in Abby’s hand, understands what is happening.

 

And Erin suddenly feels so foolish. They've  _ known.  _ They've both known all along. Even if they didn't know all the details, they've  _ known. _

 

“Is there anything I can do?”

 

She's speaking softly, directly to Abby, and Erin keeps her face down, turned away. She hates this. She hates the way she's feeling, hates the way she's reacting, hates that her friends are seeing her like this.

 

“I don't think so. I think we just need a little bit of time.”

 

“Alright.”

 

She leaves and Erin can't bring herself to even look at Abby now. She's trying to force herself to just  _ stop feeling.  _ But she can't.  _ She can't. _

 

_ “ _ Sometimes I think that I've built up this big, romanticized idea of what it would have been like,” she says, her voice just a low, monotonous mumble. “Since we never really got to find out. Since there never felt like there was a definite end until now… I think that maybe I built it up to be way more than it ever really was. Like it could have been this great love when… it probably wouldn't have been like that at all. But I'll never know...so….”

 

Abby sighs and stays silent for several long seconds before she begins to speak softly.

 

“I don't know if this will make you feel better or worse, but...for what it's worth, I always thought that you two would've been really great together.”

 

_ and everything you love and hold so dear _

_ it won't really matter when we disappear _

 

She locks herself in the bathroom.

 

Because she just needs to be by herself. Even though she's afraid to be left alone with her thoughts. She needs to be away from everyone else.

 

She buries her face in her hands and she cries. She cries in the way that she hasn't allowed herself to cry. Not since the night before Holtz left.

 

The night that she had picked up the gift that Holtz had given her that Christmas, the Secret Santa gift, the snow globe of  _ their  _ firehouse. She had picked it up and hurled it against the wall as hard as she could. She regretted it immediately, had run over to find shards of broken glass, water, and tiny bits of white plastic covering her floor. And she had cried. Sitting there on the floor with the broken snow globe, holding the pieces in her hands.

 

_ It's over. _

 

It's all over and it's her own fault. Holtz has moved on. She's moved on and she's  _ getting married.  _ And Erin. Erin. She's here.

 

She's here.

 

_ oh, one day you will know _

_ we're men of snow _

_ we melt _

_ one day _


	5. a merry little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. We did it. We're at the end.  
> Thank you for going on this journey with me.
> 
> Now, there IS a recorded version of Ingrid's cover of this song on her Spotify, but I am partial to the live versions of it, so that's what I am linking you to. Also, I'm especially fond of THIS particular video that I'm linking you to and it MIGHT be because the video is from the first time that I got to hear the song live at Ingrid's 8th annual holiday show, buuuut I dunno. Also, her 10th annual holiday show just happens to be tonight which! I SWEAR I did not actually plan to post the last chapter the same day that I'd be seeing her, but that's just a really fun thing that happened to happen! 
> 
> Anyways, if you've made it this far, thank you for reading, thank you for sticking with me through the angst, and I adore you all very very very much.

**[v. a merry little](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IFfcMbnLYGU) **

_ here we are as in olden days _

_ happy golden days of yore _

_ faithful friends who are dear to us _

_ will gather near to us once more _

 

“I still can't believe that I missed your  _ wedding.” _

 

“It's really not a big deal. You know that. It was just a small little thing.”

 

“But  _ still.” _

 

“There almost wasn't even a wedding at all. Do you know how many times I found her about to book flights to Vegas to just elope?”

 

“It seemed easier!”

 

“God, I am so happy for you guys,” Holtz grins, throwing her arms around Patty once again, reaching one hand out to brush her hand affectionately over Patty’s husband’s shoulder. 

 

“And  _ I'm  _ so happy that you're  _ here,”  _ Patty says, squeezing her tightly against her.

 

“Me too,” Holtz agrees. “Even if it's just for a little while.”

 

“I miss your crazy, you know that?”

 

“I never thought I'd hear you say that.”

 

“And I never thought I'd say it.”

 

Abby laughs from where she's sitting next to her partner of the last several months, cozied up with them on a loveseat. Kevin and his boyfriend are over by the tray of sweets, trying to see who can fit the most reindeer-shaped sugar cookies into their mouths.

 

There's only one person missing. 

 

They don't mention it. They don't mention her. Holtz wants to know where she is, if she even knows that Holtz is there, if she had maybe planned on coming until she found out that she'd be there, if…. But she doesn't ask. She doesn't bring her up. They don't bring her up. 

 

She doesn't ask about her anymore. When she talks to Abby or Patty or even Kevin…. She used to ask. Usually just about how she was doing. That was all she really needed to know. She just needed to know that she was doing okay.

 

But then she stopped. 

 

When the doorbell rings, Holtz is deep in conversation with Patty’s husband and she barely even registers the noise. Abby stands up to get the door.

 

And then there she is.

 

“I know I said I wasn't gonna come, but I changed my mind like, an hour ago,” she’s saying as she hands a bottle of wine to Abby and begins to pull off her coat. Her hair is glistening with quickly-melting snowflakes. 

 

Holtz doesn't know when she stood up, but she's standing now. Erin isn't looking in her direction. She's hanging her coat on the rack on the wall, turned away. 

 

When she turns again, it's almost as if it's happening in slow motion. And then it all stops. As soon as their eyes lock, everything around them stops. 

 

A pause.

 

A breath.

 

And then Erin is moving. Quickly. Towards Holtz. Their bodies collide with such force that Holtz is left momentarily breathless. Erin's arms are wrapping around her shoulders and Holtz’s hands are settling on her back, and Erin pulls away too soon, her cheeks pink, and her eyes unmistakably filled with tears. 

 

“I'm sorry,” she gasps out, but Holtz shakes her head, not needing an apology.

 

“Don't be.”

 

“What are you doing here?!”

 

“Kind of a last-minute decision to come. Got on a plane last night.”

 

She doesn't miss the way that Erin subtlety glances down towards her left hand. It's quick, and then she looks back up at her face and she smiles, she opens her mouth as if she's about to say something, but nothing comes out. She laughs. Holtz laughs, too. Somehow, she understands. There's so much to say, but they both seem to have been rendered speechless. 

 

“It's good to see you,” Holtz tells her.

 

“You too.”

 

Erin takes a step back, still smiling, and she lets out another small laugh, breathy and nervous, mumbles something about getting something to drink.

 

Holtz sits back down, a tingly feeling spreading throughout her chest. She feels as if she’s just taken her first big breath of air after being underwater for just a millisecond too long.

 

The only other open chair is on the other side of the room. That’s where Erin sits when she returns with her drink. She’s too far away. It’s the closest that Holtz has been to her in two and a half years, and she’s still too far away.

 

“Wow, it’s really coming down out there,” Abby comments, looking out the window.

 

“It’s kind of nice,” Patty says. “I love a snowy Christmas. I don’t even remember the last time it snowed on Christmas Eve.”

 

Holtz knows. She’s about to supply an answer, but before she can--

 

“Four years ago,” Erin says from the other side of the room.

 

Holtz looks towards her, catching her eye. She smiles and quickly glances away. 

 

It feels just like it used to. It feels like hardly any time has passed at all. It feels as if they’ve never been apart. Holtz feels like she’s  _ home.  _ And the new additions -- Patty’s husband, Abby’s partner, Kevin’s boyfriend -- it’s like they’ve been there all along, fitting in and mixing with the rest of them seamlessly. 

 

“Okay, as much as I love y’all, we gotta get up early and go see his family tomorrow, so I gotta kick y’all out,” Patty says.

 

“Alright, alright, bring it in,” Holtz says, standing and opening her arms towards Patty. Patty wraps her up in a hug.

 

“How long you here for again?”

 

“I leave on Tuesday,” she tells her. 

 

“Try to see me again before you go,” Patty says. 

 

“I promise that I will,” she agrees. 

 

Holtz pulls her coat tighter as she steps out onto the steps of Patty’s townhouse, fresh snow crunching beneath her boots. Abby and her partner get into their waiting Uber car while Kevin and his boyfriend say goodbye and head off into the direction of their train. And very suddenly, Holtz is alone with Erin.

 

She hadn’t planned this. She didn’t expect it. But here she is. Alone with Erin on the sidewalk and the situation feels vaguely familiar.

 

“So, um,” Erin smiles and then falls silent.

 

“Do you wanna--” Holtz begins, but at the exact same time, Erin says, “I guess I--”

 

The both stop, laughing slightly.

 

“You go ahead,” Holtz says.

 

“No, no, you go first.”

 

“Okay. Do you wanna go grab a drink or something somewhere? With me?” she asks.

 

“ _ Yes,”  _ Erin answers quickly, sounding almost  _ relieved.  _ “But where are we going to find somewhere that’s open on Christmas Eve?”

 

“Erin, we’re in _ New York _ . Not  _ every _ single person in this city celebrates Christmas. Surely, at least a  _ few  _ of those non-Christmas-celebrating folk will also be business owners. Bar owners, specifically. Although, I wouldn’t pass up a good diner if we happen upon one of those first.”

 

Erin laughs and Holtz holds out her arm, offering it to Erin. Erin glances at it hesitantly at first before giving in and linking their elbows together as they set off along the sidewalk. Holtz isn’t sure where they’re going, but she figures that if they walk in one direction long enough, they’ll find something. She’s really not in any rush.

 

“You know, it doesn’t really snow in Seattle,” she says, looking up towards the sky, letting the snowflakes fall onto her face. “I’ve missed it. That’s why I decided to come here. I missed the snow.”

 

“How’d you know that it was going to snow?” Erin asks.

 

She smiles.

 

“I didn’t.”

 

They walk along in silence. The streets are empty. The buildings they pass by are covered in multi-coloured lights. It almost feels as if they have the entire city to themselves.

 

“You changed your hair,” Holtz comments, gazing over at her. “You grew out your bangs.”

 

“Oh,” Erin laughs, bringing a hand up, brushing her fingertips over her hair. “Yeah. I did.”

 

“It looks good.”

 

“Thank you,” she smiles.

 

They fall silent once more, the only sound being the snow beneath their feet as they walk.

 

“So, why were you not going to come tonight?” Holtz asks Erin, finally breaking the silence again. She feels Erin shrug beside her.

 

“Oh, I dunno,” she sighs. “It’s just...oh, it’s stupid.”

 

“Doubtful.”

 

“It’s just… spending the evening surrounded by three happy couples… while I’m single… it’s…,” she trails off.

 

“Got it,” Holtz nods.

 

“It doesn’t usually bother me. That kind of thing. I don’t usually care that much.”

 

“But…?” Holtz urges. She sighs again.

 

“I just went through a breakup,” she admits. “Like, a month ago.”

 

“A serious one?”

 

“I don’t know. I mean, we’d been seeing each other for like, five months. Which, I know, it’s not even that long. But it was the longest relationship I’ve had since…. In a while.”

 

“I see.”

 

“I told you it was stupid.”

 

“It’s not stupid,” Holtz says. “I get it. I think I may have felt that a little bit myself, too.”

 

She’s looking ahead, but out of the corner of her eye, she sees the way that Erin looks at her,  _ studies  _ her. But she doesn’t say anything. 

 

“So, what made you change your mind?” Holtz asks.

 

“I don’t know. I just...had this feeling that I should be there.”

 

“Well...I’m glad you came,” Holtz tells her. 

 

“Yeah. Me too,” she says. “You know, it started snowing almost as soon as I left my apartment.”

 

“Did it?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

She smiles to herself.

 

“What did you mean?” Erin says suddenly, her voice a little bit louder than before as if she’s forcing out the words. “Um. When you…. You said you may have felt it a little bit, too. What does that mean?”

 

She wondered when they would get to this.  _ If  _ they would get to it. 

 

“It means that…,” she begins, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to word it. Erin stops walking and Holtz stops, too. They stand in the middle of the deserted, snowy sidewalk, Erin’s eyes burning into her, waiting.

 

“Are you…. Did you…,” Erin mumbles, and she slips her arm out of Holtz’s, turning to face her.

 

“We broke up,” Holtz finally spits out. “About four months ago.”

 

“You were  _ engaged.” _

 

“Yes,” she nods.

 

“What...what happened?”

 

Holtz shrugs, looking down at the ground, kicking some of the powdery snow with the toe of her boot.

 

“The same thing that always happens,” she says. “You’re happy...until you’re not.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“It was very anticlimactic. Very little drama,” she admits. “Every time we tried to set a date for the wedding, we just...kept pushing it back. We kept making it further and further away until we both realized that we were doing that because we...didn’t actually want it to happen at all.”

 

She buries her hands in her coat pockets, rocks back and forth on her heels.

 

“She was the one who ended up calling it off. I think we both knew that it had to happen. Even though we...we really loved each other...we weren’t  _ right  _ for each other.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” she shakes her head. “It’s a good thing that we figured it out before it was too late.”

 

“Right. Yeah.”

 

Holtz glances up at her again. Erin is already looking at her.

 

“Wanna keep walking?” she suggests.

 

“Yeah,” Erin nods.

 

They walk. They don’t link arms again, but they stay close, shoulders occasionally brushing together. 

 

“Hey. this place looks open,” Erin points out as they approach a small bar, Christmas lights strung in the window, a few dim lights on inside.

 

“Shall we, then?”

 

“We shall,” Erin smiles. 

 

The bar is warm and nearly empty with just one bartender and one other customer, tucked away at the very end of the bar. Holtz and Erin stand in the doorway, brushing the snow out of their hair and off of their coats before moving forward, selecting two stools on the opposite end from the one other customer. The bartender slides over to them and they order two beers. Their beers are placed in front of them, and neither of them say much for a few minutes. 

 

“So, uh…,” Erin begins. “Do you like living in Seattle?”

 

“It’s okay,” she answers. “It rains all the time. Messes up my hair.”

 

“Oh, no,” she laughs.

 

“I’m moving back.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m moving back,” she repeats, a little slower this time. “Here. To New York.”

 

Erin stares at her looking as if she doesn’t quite believe her.

 

“You are?” she asks, her voice low, cautious. Holtz nods.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“ _ When?” _

 

“In a couple months. I still have some loose ends to tie up. Also, the people who are subletting my apartment here aren’t set to move out for another couple months, so.”

 

“You still have your apartment here?”

 

“Yeah,” she nods, smiling slightly. “I could never bring myself to fully get rid of it, so I’ve just been subletting it this whole time.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Honestly? I think… I think I always knew that I’d be coming back. I… I thought it would be sooner. I thought...I thought I would get to Seattle and turn right around and come back. That didn’t happen… but… I think that I knew that I was going to need a place to come back to.”

 

“Why are you leaving Seattle?”

 

“There’s just nothing there for me,” she says. “I mean, I have a good job and I like it a lot but… that’s not enough for me. I’m not...as happy as I could be. And I know how happy I can be. And when I think of the times in my life when I’ve been happiest… they’ve all been here. They’ve all been  _ right here.” _

 

“Right here in this bar?” Erin jokes. Holtz laughs but shakes her head.

 

“No,” she says simply, but doesn’t offer any other explanation.

 

“Are you um… are you going to come back and work with us again?” Erin asks almost sheepishly.

 

“If you’ll take me.”

 

“Yes,” she says without a second of hesitation, nodding, a smile spreading over her face. “Yes. Of course.”

 

“Then...yes.”

 

They sit there smiling at each other for a while until the corners of Erin’s lips twitch downwards and then she looks down and takes a shaky breath.

 

“Holtz, I’m sorry for what I said to you. The things I said before you left. I shouldn’t have--”

 

“Hey,” Holtz interrupts. “It’s okay. We don’t have to--”

 

“ _ No,  _ it’s not okay, I was--”

 

“Erin,” she says, reaching out, placing a hand over hers on top of the bar. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. We’ll have  _ so much time  _ to talk about later if you really want to. But let’s...we don’t have to talk about it tonight. It’s  _ okay _ .”

 

Erin just nods, swallowing hard, eyes blinking rapidly, and Holtz can see the way that they glisten in the dim lighting. She squeezes her hand.

 

“I just need you to know right now that I’m sorry,” she says.

 

“So am I.”

 

_ through the years we all will be together  _

_ if the fates allow  _

_ hang a shining star upon the highest bough  _

 

It’s late when they finally decide to leave the bar. They’ve talked and laughed their way through two beers each. There is still so much left unsaid, but it feels okay. As they walk towards the door of the bar, it feels okay. 

 

They stop, just to the side of the door to put their coats back on. Holtz simply throws hers on, not bothering to fasten it, and she watches as Erin wraps her scarf around her neck and then zips her coat all the way up. 

 

There is still so much left unsaid.

 

But it feels okay.

 

“You gonna take the train or a cab?” Holtz asks her.

 

“Probably a cab. You?”

 

“Train,” she says. “Even though I’ll be waiting for one forever. Since it’s Christmas Eve and--” she glances at her watch. It’s past midnight. “Actually, no. Since it’s  _ Christmas.  _ Merry Christmas, Erin.”

 

She smiles.

 

“Happy December twenty-fifth.”

 

They’re still lingering to the side of the bar door. 

 

There’s something keeping her there, even if she isn’t entirely sure what it is. There is still so much left unsaid. But it feels okay. She’s there with Erin and it’s different than it ever has been because too much time has passed, too much has happened for them to go back to how they were before. 

 

She doesn’t want to go back to how they were before.

 

Something catches Holtz’s eye just above them. She glances up, and she can’t control the laugh that slips past her lips. She doesn’t know how she hadn’t noticed it earlier.

 

“Oh,  _ jeez,”  _ she says. “Well, if  _ that  _ isn’t just the biggest cliche  _ ever.” _

 

“What?” Erin asks, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

 

“Look up,” she says simply.

 

Erin tilts her head upwards and a smile slowly spreads over her face. 

 

Holtz is staring at her. She can’t even help it. She’s completely mesmerized by her and she can’t tear her eyes away. Erin looks back down, still smiling, and Holtz watches her lips move as she speaks.

 

“Mistletoe,” she says softly.

 

“Easily my favourite Christmas tradition,” Holtz mumbles.

 

“You don't even celebrate Christmas,” Erin smiles, her voice shaking just slightly, sounding almost breathless.

 

“I can still have a favourite Christmas tradition,” she says. She steps forward, closer to Erin and then Erin is reaching out, placing a gentle hand on Holtz’s cheek.

 

There is still so much left unsaid.

 

But it feels okay.

 

“Promise me you won't let me get my hopes up this time?”

 

“Yes,” Erin whispers. “I promise.”

 

Outside, the snow continues to fall.

 

_ and have yourself  _

_ a merry little christmas now _


End file.
